


Giving Arthur Away

by rachelautumn



Series: Crossing the Bridge [1]
Category: Merlin (TV)
Genre: Humor, M/M, POV Morgana, Weddings
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-02-02
Updated: 2017-04-28
Packaged: 2018-03-10 05:19:19
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 11,535
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3278231
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/rachelautumn/pseuds/rachelautumn
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Last time Morgana planned a wedding for Arthur he jilted the bride at the altar.  This time things seem to be going pear shaped a little sooner.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. A Place for Everything and Everything in its Place

**Author's Note:**

> This is a prequel/ sequel to a Freaky-Friday mix up, where Arthur and Merlin switch bodies long enough to fix each other's lives, break up a wedding and catch out sly old Uther in some illegal business practices

Morgana resisted the urge to pull her own hair. She was not going to develop a nervous tic over this. Since smoking was also out these days, she was just going to have to do what her ancestors did, and breathe hard while wielding a pointy object. In this case a pencil.

How hard could a seating arrangement be, after all?

The neat little list of names stared up at her, just the same as when she'd started, not a thing crossed out. The mock up of the twelve tables by contrast was full of grey rubber marks and torn spots where she'd changed her mind a dozen times.

Damn Arthur. She was always doing the hard work for him, even at his wedding.

Maybe she should just blow a whistle and shout, "Last one in is a rotten egg."

It would be almost worth it to see Uther- cool, patrician, Uther -racing ever faster in his wingtips, bum sashaying slightly as he refused either to lose or be seen trying. Unfortunately the other side of the aisle might not be that subtle. 

Morgan looked over the names. Arthur's financé had put stars next to a few of them with disturbing notes such as "volatile" and "cut off after two glasses," and the mysterious and alarmingly frequent scribble that seemed to say "con." Did this mean contrary or convict? Either way implied pretty rough types who wouldn't be above tripping an older man to win. If it came down to mud wrestling it would not be worth it at all.

Morgana shuddered and gripped her pencil hard. 

She missed her studio. It wasn't a proper room, just a corner of a warehouse that stretched out over the Thames and smellt a little of the river. When she was there, sketching out designs she could pretend to be far away from the vicious house parties of her youth, part of the commercial flow, making something, being useful. The reality, though, was that she had to stay in the circuit if she wanted her designs to be seen. Planning her brother's wedding was a necessary chore, and one she'd done before actually, shockingly recently. 

What a slag he was, Arthur.

At least it had been easy last time. The bride was Vivienne, vicious blonde extraordinaire and Morgana's personal enemy. Of course she wasn't happy about Arthur's choice back then. Vivienne was a cow and she'd brought out the ass in Arthur. Their wedding, however, had planned itself.

Vivienne's connections were largely the same as the Pendragons'. If they all hated each other, and they did, the problem of who could sit next to whom had been solved long ago. This time, the man who was standing next to Arthur, this Merlin character, could not be more different.

Oh certainly he was nice enough, with a bright smile that didn't flicker even when he was goosed by Gwaine or ignored by Uther. He just wasn't the right sort. Morgana didn't like to admit that she even knew the phrase, but there was no better way of describing someone who brought with him a whole score of people who couldn't be safely seated anywhere. They all seemed to be communists, or academics or Welsh or in the case of the lovely groom himself, all three.

And that was forgetting the fact that he was a man. Uther was bound to get shirty about that at some point, probably planned for best dramatic impact.

A familiar step behind her told her Leon was back from helping Arthur collect his morning suit. "Who's winning?" her husband dropped a hand on her shoulder. 

"The chart is winning, by a mile." She allowed herself to moan a little as he rubbed the bad spot on her neck. "Here, take a look. It's absolutely impossible."

He peered over her shoulder. 

"You can put me between Vivienne and Merlin's mother. I don't mind."

Bless his shaggy, ginger head. She pulled him down to kiss it, enjoying the scent of the stodgy cologne he used. She gave him a bottle every year for Christmas and every year he read off the lable, "From father to son for generations!" just as chuffed as the first time. Leon, Arthur's best friend, was by far the best thing she had ever stolen from her brother.

"I don't suppose we could make ten more of you? It would solve a lot of problems," she asked, quite serious. It was something she thought often, actually. Everything always made more sense when Leon was around.

"How about I offer you the next best thing." He tugged the pencil out her hand. "I'll take care of this and you can help Merlin. He seems to be staggering around with a bridge over his shoulder."

She peered over the lawn. There did appear to be a bridge with legs, cutting a meandering path in the general direction of the pond. With a sigh she kicked off her shoes and ran interference.

"Merlin, Merlin, what are you doing?" He turned around and hailed her with the huge grin that had stood in place of credentials or class or knowing anybody including Arthur for more than 2 weeks. Morgana refused to melt like everyone else did.

"Well we couldn't have it over there anymore." He waved a hand over to the place where her crew had painstakingly set up twice twelve rows of folding chairs, with drapery on them, and programs in the seats and epic flower arrangements. "Ground's gone all squashy."

"The ground is not squashy!"

With his chin, he indicated his horrible, tatty trousers, the bottoms of which had been dipped in mud and dried again in layers like homemade candles.

"But nobody mentioned anything this morning!" It was just like this event from start to finish that her minions, who always performed for her in every other professional context and quite a few personal ones, somehow felt free to do things that were stupid, as long as only she could be blamed.

"I guess they were too afraid of you to comment?" He looked up at her through his ridiculously girly eyelashes as if she would be distracted from the insult.

She let that go. Now was not the time. Merlin, who was visibly wilting under the weight of the bridge, started to shift from foot to foot.

"Would you put that thing down, please?" He looked so gormless. Morgana had always felt the urge with the gormless to peck like a worm getting bird. She ended up saying what she swore she wouldn't. "What on earth possessed you anyway, to pick a bridge theme for this event?"

The bridge thing-not a theme mentioned in any bridal magazine ever was not at all subtle.

There was a bridge on the cake, and on the wedding invitations and the programs, and a decidedly bridgelike shape to the banner that hung over the door, though she had exercised some artistic license there. This footbridge thing they wanted to say their vows on wasn't even the half of it.

"Well Arthur and I met on a bridge, Morgana," Now that he wasn't covered up by masses of oversized lawn ornament, she could see that his blue eyes were both wide and twinkling, which shouldn't have been possible. "And it was a little bit magic."

"That doesn't mean you have to get married on one," she sniffed.

It was naff was what it was. She had mentioned this to Arthur at the beginning only to be shot down with what she knew from experience was his final glare. Considering how close she had come to losing him altogether, only a few months ago, when Vivienne had replaced her at Pendragon, she hadn't pressed, but it was hard to swallow. Design was her business now and this was the kind of high profile event where she couldn't be seen to fail.

The frustrating thing was that Arthur was good at that sort of thing, normally. That's what Uther used him for, or he had before the falling out that had ruined Arthur's relationship with him and restored Arthur's relationship with her. He ushered people around parties and looked good in a suit. Assuming he didn't sleep with the wrong person afterwards, all went well. Tasteful but unimaginative, and somewhat slutty underneath used to be a great way of describing Arthur Pendragon. Until Merlin here.

Now he was a loyal hound, friendly unless you got too close to the object of his affections. Then came the teeth.

She sighed. A hound was still better than an ass. If Merlin, tamer and reformer of childish, self absorbed brothers, wanted it, she would make the bridge work. 

Morgana watched the man for a moment. He had put the bridge down and was regarding it hand on chin, with a fond air. He gave it a few pats like a dog. Oh God, it was probably a metaphor for Arthur. Merlin studied poetry, she knew and was probably inclined to nod his head yes and then do what he wanted anyway like that horrible girl from Uni who never washed her hair, whats-her-name who claimed to be a poetess.

She stepped back on bare feet, feeling the nice firm mudless grass and took a look at it. It wasn't bad, actually. Who knew, it might even look better framed by the pond. At least Merlinand Arthur would look good standing on it. They complemented each other nicely, she thought. Arthur had always been good looking, square jawed and fair, but maybe a bit too pretty. Merlin was all lithe and dark; his full lips and doe eyes made Arthur seem more masculine. As far as that went, Morgana approved.

If only there didn't have to be a teeny tiny replica of the two of them on the cake; that was certainly at least two steps too far.

"Don't worry about the chairs and stuff, Morgana," Merlin startled her out of her reverie, laying a long, artistic looking hand on her arm. Nine out of ten people who did this to her were sorry immediately afterwards, but Merlin was the kind of person who got away with things and she found herself letting it go. "We can still use them under the cherry trees for the meal."

"And the ceremony?" He smiled in a way that made his ears stick out in an alarming fashion.

"Oh well that's classic! My friend Will, you remember him?" The chav who had ogled her breasts in front of Leon, and who was responsible for half of her seating problems? Why yes, she did recall. "He was taking my mum around a bit, you know. She doesn't drive and she really wanted a chance to see ....."

From the slope where they were standing Morgana could see Arthur's Volkswagon Touran. the larger car he'd gotten when he found out she was going to have a baby. It seemed to trailing a very large van that she didn't recognize at all. Many people, many, many people were popping out of this vehicle carrying large dark objects.

"Morgana," Merlin's hand was back on her arm again. "I hope I didn't upset you. It was kind of a spontaneous decision, and, well my mobile was out of battery."

"No, no, it's alright." She really needed to see what was coming out of that van. "Did Arthur say anything to you about a delivery?"

He followed her eyes to the driveway and his smile became impossibly wider.

"But that's what I've been telling you! Those are the pews from the deconsecrated church my mum found. Arthur's probably having them placed in the wrong spot. He doesn't know about the mud."

He made as if to run off, but Morgana, who had long practice holding fleeing boys, sank her nails into his arm.

"You're placing wooden benches, in rows, on the lawn." 

"Yes, and my mother's tatted a lace doily for each seat with our initials on it. I can't believe she did that so fast. She's just lovely, my mum."

"Your mum has made lace doilies." Morgana wished she could stop repeating what he was saying. It was horrid enough to hear each sentence the first time.

She was startled to feel hands on both of her shoulders. Some force dragged her eyes up to meet Merlin's. Like this he didn't seem goofy at all, but intensely serene. She recalled hearing Arthur mention that he taught yoga. He must be very good.

"Breathe, Morgana."

To her surprise, she obeyed and immediately felt her tension escape her body and travel up her arms to be lost in his calm. "I know you haven't known me very long. It must be hard to trust that I'm doing the right thing, especially since I'm no fashion plate."

She laughed,surprising herself.

"Well, yes."

Merlin took her hand in his. It was a fine, strong hand. He really was a very attractive man, she decided. Bravo Arthur. "I know you love Arthur. I'm sure that means you can tell I love him, too."

She felt her eyes well up in response. Her love for Arthur was sunk pretty far down, actually, but Merlin had touched on it like a thing that was obvious, and it rose up in her. "So I would never do anything that would embarrass him. Arthur might not admit it, but he's the kind of person who would like to be married in a church. The tradition would mean something to him."

Morgana nodded. The ceremony with Vivienne had been planned for a church. Looked at like that, the pews made a lot of sense, were brilliant even. "And my mother's work is just as traditional and just as beautiful," he continued. "Here, look."

He dug in his pocket and smoothed out a whitish ball of something. It resolved into a square of lace, an unusual boxy pattern, not at all fussy or feminine with a dragon in one corner and the initials A and M across from it.

"But this is fabulous!" Morgana instantly thought of half a dozen uses for a talent like this in her design studio. "You're mother really did this all in a week?"

"Well, I suspect she may have started sooner than she admits. She adored Arthur, you know, from the first second she saw him. I have no idea how she knew. Even I hated him for a day or so at first."

"As you do,"

He grinned. 

"Yeah, but he grows on you." He was blushing; it was absolutely adorable.

"Your mother is Hunith, yes?"

Morgana felt some of her seating arrangement plans fall together. She would have to tell Leon to place her next to this woman. She sounded like a godsend. "I'm eager to get to know her."

She watched him, shifting restlessly again, trying to crane his neck subtly to see Arthur without seeming to be rude to her. She stood on tiptoe to give him a kiss on the cheek.

He put his hand to the spot, eyes widening.

"What's that for?"

"You're the best thing that could have happened to him, aren't you?' She said, as it occurred to her. He shrugged and smiled.

"Yeah, probably."

Everything was going to be alright.


	2. Bride or Groom?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Nobody is where he is supposed to be.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Kendall Park is the name of a town in New Jersey. Bit of a joke at my own expense, because I know nothing about Elizabethan homes.

They were coming two by two across the lawn, mostly male and female as the Lord created them. There were surprisingly few same sex couples for a gay wedding. Occasionally one of the females would dip and lurch suddenly to one side, as her heel sank into the mud. 

Morgana stood there in the exact spot where she waved goodbye every year to the house and to the summer, before getting into the car to go back to school. Arthur had chosen the spot over the usual one behind the house because he felt it was more welcoming to visitors, showing the front as it would appear on a post card. He didn't seem to care that it was a long trek to get to the ceremony and Morgana had felt obliged to put out food and drink stations half way up the hill. Nuisance.

Feeling very much as if she were facing the wrong way, she watched them come. Maybe it was the bridge theme, but she had the feeling that once the guests started they would keep going, barging into the butler's pantry and the wine cellar. 

To pass the time, she tried to guess at a distance who was going to introduce themselves from the guest list. She called the game Hon or Con, which Leon wouldn't like but then he wasn't there, was he?

That girl with the slouch and the gold chained handbag? Merlin's side definitely, probably one to be cut off after two glasses. And the square woman who was clutching her boiled wool jacket as if someone wanted to steal it? Also Merlin's. Academic probably. 

"I'm Janet Welch," the woman said when her turn came. Her voice was wonderful, exactly what Morgana imagined the written words wanted to sound like. "Merlin's tutor from before he started getting married."

Morgana gave herself full marks for the guess.

"Has Merlin been married often before?" she asked. She was as relieved as disappointed when the woman chuckled and marched on without answering.

What luck that she'd seated the starchy old thing next to Uther.

Her luck held true with the rest of the crowd, but her pleasure in guessing faded. There were a good number of people she could easily identify from their walks alone, mostly older friends' of Uther's who had been invited because they could not be offended and who had come for the same reason. Then there were Arthur's rugby friends, who had never been either surprising or pleasant. The rest were strangers, many of them gawking at the long expanse of stone in front of them.

Kendall Park was a good house, not quite the sort of thing that earned money doing photoshoots, but not insignificant either. It was a solid, slightly ugly Elizabethan square and it had been in the Pendragon family for a long time.

Morgana realized she felt as if she were offering tours of herself. The last wedding had been in town, staged at a church and hotel, where they were all acting out public roles. This place, the park, belonged to her and Arthur, to their childhoods and she was not used to sharing it.

As if summoned by the past, their old neighbor, Miles Granville,crept alone up the path, probably having walked from his own place. Miles Granville stood pole straight despite his age. He was an officer of the second world war and one of the rare people who contradicted Uther Pendragon without thinking it over for a few days first.

"Sir Miles," she offered the old man her cheek. "I'm so glad you could make it." He hadn't bothered with an RSVP, but she had expected him. 

He nodded crisply. He still smelled of after shave and was very clean, though sometimes a little arrears of current events. "Well, I always like to see the house. Glad Uther hasn't sold, you know."

Morgana thought of the large banner with the bridge on it hanging over the hall. Sir Miles was very fond of the hall. Perhaps the old man was nearsighted these days and would see it as he remembered it.

"I'm sure Arthur will continue on," she reassured him.

"Don't know about that chit he's marrying," he sniffed, inclined as usual to think he knew best . "She's just the type to put a cark park in."

"I know Vivienne can't do that" she said with certainty. She was wondering what the old officer would make of Merlin and Arthur on a bridge when she spotted Uther and felt the smile leave her face. "Excuse me, Sir Miles. I have to run."

Her father was walking towards her with, of all people, Arthur's ex bride on his arm.

He was not in morning dress. But then he wasn't meant to approve of Arthur's marriage this time.

"Father!" she cried, striding out as powerfully as a woman can, who has chosen to wear a sheath, "Tell me you're not working today. You're wearing your Friday suit and I see you'vve brought your new Vice President."

Also known as the bitch.

"Nonesense, Morgana, " Uther's eyes raked her over, looking for faults. "Vivienne's my plus one today."

"Vivienne," she held out a hand, suppressing a triumphant grin because her outfit was awful. Vivienne wore a shade of green that someone probably told her was good for people with summer complexions. 

"Morgana," Vivienne's hand was only nanoseconds in Morgana's.

"Do let me point you to the ceremony, Viv." She inclined her head into Vivienne's stiff shoulder as she gestured up the hill "Some things have changed since the last time you were here." 

Vivienne smiled, barely. Could she open her mouth more than that? Probably not, all the better not to laugh, fuck or eat. God, but Morgana hated ballet blondes.

"Actually, I've been here quite recently." Vivienne looked behind her and Uther gave her an approving tilt of his head. " Uther's been showing me the estate."

"Is Pendragon planning on selling it?" Morgana was surprised at the pang it brought. The place wasn't hers anyway, wouldn't ever have been hers. Uther chuckled and shook his head.

"You know I'll never let it go out of the family, Morgana." He dipped his hand around Vivienne's taught waist. "Vivienne was here in a purely private capacity."

Private capacity?, she noticed the tan line around his ring finger where his old wedding band always used to be and then glanced at Vivienne's hand. There was a large, square emerald crippling her fourth finger, a ring of her mother's that Morgana had always thought was waiting for her in the family vault. 

She felt the click of photographers behind her, recording her exact expression as she realized Uther and Vivienne were engaged.

"Well I needn't show you the way then," She bared her teeth at the photographer, Maude Aston, who did a lot of publicity for Morgana's design events, hoping it looked like nothing was amiss. "I'd try the prawns first, if I were you. They're almost gone already."

Morgana did not wait to hear a response. . 

All this trouble over seating arrangements and she hadn't even looked twice at Uther's plus one, card. 

She should have realized that of all the people who might have caused trouble from that list, her own family would be the very worst.

* * *

Running up the stone stair that cheated the hill and provided a short cut to the ground floor of the house, Morgana was not pleased to collide with her husband running down.

"What are you doing here?" 

"I'm looking for Arthur." Leon had the nerve to look her in the eyes as if he hadn't just lost Arthur, someone famous for not being where he was expected to be, who had already scuppered one wedding day in the last year.

"I thought he was supposed to be with you getting dressed!"

"Yeah, he escaped." Leon at least looked chagrined at that. "Said he needed some time to think."

"Arthur does not need to think. He should leave that to the rest of us!" Morgana was aware that her voice was rising. White and black clad servitor persons that she had shared the secret of the stair case with earlier in the day when she felt magnanimous startled away at the sound. "Find him right now," she lowered her voice this time, "Uther has shown up with Vivienne and it looks like they're engaged."

Leon considered this news and then shrugged. "I wish I could say I'm shocked but honestly it makes a certain amount of sense." Morgana narrowed her eyes at him. Sometimes Leon's calm, steadfast temperament could be a bit trying.

"I'm going to find Arthur," she said through clenched teeth, "You are going to greet people and send them up the hill. If you like their shoes," she added, "or if they appear elderly, you can direct them to the staircase." Leon nodded his head again. Perhaps she hadn't been fair to him; he was practically the only man she'd ever met who wouldn't waste time, trying to ask why right now. "Oh and if you figure out what "con" means, be sure to let me know."

To her surprise he stopped then and pulled her tight into a kiss, a very unhurried kiss. Several employees who should have known better clapped.

"Sorry," Leon blushed. "Just remembered why I married you."

"Stupid man," She said. "I've no time for that sort of thing." It did seem easier to breathe, however, as she scanned the grounds for Arthur's blonde, oblivious head. He wasn't in evidence on the horizon line. Perhaps he had fled down to the more modern family rooms below stairs.

She found no Arthur there, only some rugby playing louts who had insinuated themselves in the billiards room as if they belonged there, simply because they had gotten drunk there so often ten years ago. All of them leered and chuckled. None had seen Arthur.

"I would check the baby minder's tent," Gwaine suggested. He was ensconced on a couch with his wife, an absurdly young blonde with wispy hair and an unfortunate taste in strappy sandles.  
"Elena and I saw him there when we were dropping off the sprog." He looked a little bit smug and Elena turned redder than usual.

"You did not..." She began. "You two did not..."

"Just once for old times sake," Elena giggled. "It hardly lasted a minute."

Wretched Gwaine. He enjoyed himself too much. Morgana suspected they'd shared that tidbit just to rile her up.

On the whole she liked Gwaine . He'd invested his own money in her,back at the start, when no one else had been there for her, when Arthur and her father had let her down. He was a good friend. He was also more than capable of kissing an old lover on his wedding day without a care for the consequences

Come to think of it, if Arthur was having a fit of conscience, he was probably exercising it away somewhere, the way he always did to calm down. Thankfully, she knew all of the secrets Arthur and this house kept together; he could never hide from her here.

He would be on the roof of the stables, or along the creek, or running the loop of the carriage road, for sure. He would emerge dirty and red faced but much calmer than before. It was not something he had time for today.

She found him not too long later, doing press ups in the old storage shed by the creek, in just his vest and underpants. Sweat came pouring off the tip of his nose onto the filthy floor. 

"Morgs!" he looked up, all blanch-faced, as well he might be, ruining his hair and shirt like that. "Oh gods, don't tell me I've missed the time somehow." He leapt up and began reaching for his trousers. "I was getting nervous and I thought a little exercise would calm me down."

Morgana squeezed his hand until he dropped them.

"I have spent far too long planning this event for you to turn up with your shirt plastered to your chest. Towel first, Arthur, " At least he'd had the sense to bring his gym kit.

She watched him reassembling himself, the towel bracing up the knotted muscles of his legs, over the broad back and fine collar bones. Their shared genes were more obvious like this. His body was like hers, voluptuous, but also refined. It dressed well. She tried to imagine Vivienne kissing and suckling at the round pecs and failed.

"Here, I'll button you up."

"Thanks Morgs." He cracked a loose goofy grin that she had rarely seen, even when they were children. "My hands are shaking, see?"

She buttoned a few more, glad because of the time it gave her to calm down that she designed so many into the shirt.

"Afraid Merlin will find out you kissed your ex, are you?

He looked confused for a minute then rolled his eyes. "Oh that. They just had a go at me. It was a joke really, one Merlin's in on, if you must know."

She raised an eyebrow. It was always fun watching him realize a beat behind what he should have done.

"Oh no, there weren't photographers around were there?"

"Not for that, no" Morgana eyed her handiwork. Arthur really did look very good in a suit. He shoulder to hip ratio was good and she'd done her best within the traditional framework to make sure that the eye lingered on his chest. "They were too busy recording my interaction with our father and his new fiancée."

"New fiancée?" Arthur paused in the middle of doing his tie. His wounded gobsmacked expression irritated her even more because she felt just the same. "I thought...but he always..."

"Surely, you didn't think he lived for the memory of our mother or something like that?"

Arthur pinched his lips together and finished knotting the tie.

"I thought it was possible, perhaps." He said. "Thanks for the warning, Morgs. I suppose you're worried about my reaction? It's quite alright. I'll be sure to look just as I ought for your publicity shots. Maybe we should go now. I know you're in a rush."

She held up a hand She did not feel like hearing his wounded little soldier routine. "It gets better than that. It's Vivienne he's engaged to."

"Oh." Arthur paused. "That's very efficient of him, I suppose." He unlatched the shed and stretched out his arms. "Better go find Leon, I think, I haven't the foggiest idea where he put my other shoes."

"Arthur, aren't you angry about this?"

He turned around.

"Angry? Yes, I suppose I am."

Arthur turned eyes to her that were more focussed than Arthur's eyes usually were. It was possible now to imagine him as Uther's son, someone who could lead people and make them do things. She had always reserved this similarity to herself, she realized. It was odd of Arthur to show it now, when he was most a dissapointment to Uther. "I'm angry," he said, " that this day was supposed to be about me and Merlin and now he's made it about him the way he always does. I'm angry about the timing, the way I can't be sure whether he's gone and fallen in love with Vivienne or if he's just arranged the whole thing to show us all up."

He barked out a laugh. "In that case, it would still be a bit about me, in a way." He cocked his head, considering. "Or about you."

"He doesn't bother staging things for my benefit anymore." Morgana was aware as she said it that she was angry herself. It was all the more infuriating that the anger had not changed, though she had, and her life had. She would always be that child trailing after Uther, trying to match her stride with his as he surveyed the fruit trees on the property, thinking to herself, these willbe mine to take care of, and I'll put in a row of poplar just there.

"Oh I don't know," Arthur had gone back to straightening his tie, though it looked fine. "he's gotten you upset, hasn't he? And it's Vivienne."

Yes, it was Vivienne. It was Vivienne who had replaced Morgana at Pendragon the minute she took time off for the baby. Oh Uther had pretended that it was just temporary, but Morgana knew better. There was always a favorite and it was usually her. Arthur was the heir, but not the favorite and they'd split it up like that. Now Vivienne had stepped in and she was going to take everything.

Not just Uther's daughter, but his wife as well. 

It was intolerable. She would not let Vivienne take over their childhood home, and hold parties here or turn it into a bloody car park and pretend to be Igraine. 

"Why don't you stop her. Arthur?"

"How would I do that?" Arthur turned around to leave, but she put her arm on his elbow.

"You have something on her. I know you do. There was something during that negotiation for those properties in Wales. Some kind of malfeasance. It was right around the wedding I remember.and you let him hush it up. I suppose it was your bride's gift." She spat the last words.

She did not miss the extra second in his exhale. She was right. There had been something and he was trying not to show she'd hit on it, using some breathing trick Merlin had taught him, probably.

"You know, " he said, plucking her arm off, "my sister once told me that our father was a bit of a sociopath and that the only way to win his games was to stop playing them."

"Yes, but this isn't a game, Arthur. There are real things at stake, the family business, your inheritance, this house."

The one thing she always knew about her father, that he had loved her mother.

"I don't care about any of those things, Morgana. That's why I stopped working for Father. At your suggestion I might add."

"Liar!" Of all the people in the world it was only Arthur who could turn her inside out like this. "You are counting on it, all of it."

Arthur wouldn't answer that. He'd lost the look of leadership. His face wore the same truculent expression it had when he was very small, and she was telling him things he didn't like.

"Come on," she continued, "What are you doing now? Teaching sport at some preparatory school? Don't tell me that you think that is enough for Merlin, for your pride. You're to inherit Pendragon, too and that excuses the rest of it. You need Uther and Vivienne And that's why you don't have the balls to have her reported."

The red that had faded from his cheeks as he recovered from his exertions sprang back again.

"God youre a bitch Morgana." She shrugged, watching him get angry. Lots of people called her a bitch when she told the truth. "You haven't gotten away either, you know, " he said, growling a little now. 

"I seem to remember paying the price to exit," she pointed out, "while you were wining and dining clients on Uther's credit card."

"Your husband, who is my best friend, not coincidentally, works at the family firm."

"He doesn't have to work there."

"Oh no? Morgana, do you really believe that designing frocks and throwing parties pays any bills?"

Now it was her cheeks turning red. "Do you know how much I'm investing in this event? " she hissed. "I take my risks and I make a profit and both are mine and I owe nothing to him!"

"Yes, because your clients are people you know. That he knows. The right sort of people. Your business owes so much to your privilege it's almost a symptom. 

Morgana sneered. She couldn't help it.

"And what accomplishment of yours have you earned for yourself, Arthur? Even this school post came to you because the director of your old school knows that director of this one. You don't even have a teaching degree."

"I can tell you what accomplishment I've earned for myself, Morgana."

She raised a brow,

"Oh?"

He lifted his chin, nerves and anger alike forgotten. 

"Merlin. I found him and he loves me and it has nothing to do with father or you or anyone else here."

Well wasn't that the Truth and she had three days of impossible seat planning behind her to prove it.

"If you'll excuse me, Morgana." Arthur made the last adjustment to his cuffs and whirled around. " I appreciate everything you're doing for us here, but I can't talk to you right now."

He stomped off, expertly dodging sink holes in favor of solid roots of trees that he knew very well without even trying, because this was his home in a way that could not be faked or replaced. Her feet knew the way, too, even if she didn't always claim the childhood she'd spent here with him, as often as not fighting all the time then, too.

That had not gone well.

Morgana remembered why she had started smoking and then also why she had stopped. Perhaps she would pop by the minder's tent, after all. She felt a sudden need to see her daughter's face.

* * *

The sun was at its best, here where the children were. The ground was even and almost dry, so the few pieces of equipment that she had put in were getting some use. Little girls' legs were flying up on the teeter totter and racing about the table where they had biscuits and sliced fruit.

Bea, who was only 2 was still under the tent, a hat on to protect her face. It was dirty under the lace, covered with chocolate and mud. Morgana found a napkin and wet it from a little plastic cup and began to wipe gingerly. She looked for one of the baby minders.

"Marianne, I don't suppose you could keep her a little tidier? We haven't much more time before she's going to be seen."

"Oh sorry," Marianne was not an incompetant person, if prone to the odd lapse about things like this. "I've been distracted a bit. There's this guy who's been here for a couple of hours now. I didn't think much of it, at first, you know, but after a while it got odd." She nodded her chin to the opposite corner of the tent where the pen was that held the younger babies.

A man in a rumpled brown suit was peering down at a child just old enough to pull itself up. He was patting the child on the head, and then looking back at his companion and then at the child again as if unable to make up his mind which one he wanted to talk to.

As Morgana watched the companion reached over and turned the man's chin to him. It was Merlin.

She almost didn't recognize him, he looked so dignified in the tails. There was no mistaking those ears, though, and that was his smile. He said something to the stranger, who smiled too, but looking down. Merlin placed his hand on the man's shoulder and he laughed, finally chosing Merlin to look at.

Then as Morgana watched, they kissed.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Don't worry. This is a happy ending!


	3. For He's a Jolly Good Fellow That Nobody Can Deny

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So I was going to go on indefinitely not posting this until all three ridiculously long parts were finished and then Leonard Cohen died and I realized life was too short.

They all followed the bag piper up the hill, even Morgana who didn't want to anymore, until the pond and the bridge and the seats and all the arrangements she'd made could be seen below them. Then all went on without her. Cherry blossoms cast themselves off the trees and blew that way. Morgana herself did not want to get any closer.

If she arrived at the ceremony, she would either have to tell Arthur Merlin was cheating on him, or never mention it again, both very inconvenient.

So she plopped herself on a bench by the stone retaining wall, unable to stand up again, watching helplessly as Will bore down on her, looking unattractive in a morning suit twice his size.

He hopped up on the wall and put his feet on the back of the bench right next to her head. His muddy feet.

"You're sitting down. You aren't preggers, are you?" he said.

"No."

"Oh well have a ciggy then." He offered the packet. She found herself almost grateful but remembered to say no.

"I quit."

"Suit yourself." He shrugged and lit his own in the unrepentant way of people who have accepted that fate will determine how long they live and not something else.

"You know I thought at first you were a snob and all, but I like you," he said after a pause.

"I am a snob." 

Morgana bit back the urge to add, 'and I don't like you'. She did not yet mind Will's company. The feeling of being repulsed fit her current mind set pretty well.

"Yeah, well, gorgeous bird like you, I suppose you got spoiled early on. Daddy's girl I bet."

Morgana snorted and then laughed. Will laughed with her, and then clambering down, he sidled next to her. When she didn't protest, he gave her a little nudge and placed a hand on her shoulder.

"Get off of me, you miserable sack of shit."

"Oh well now, touchy, touchy." He whistled. "I never thought I'd say this, but I'd say Arthur was the easy one, of the two of you and he gave me a shiner the first time we met."

Morgana felt herself leaning into the chair, allowing the sun to burn her eyes. Maybe if she was blind she could go ahead and oversee the ceremony without actually witnessing anything.

"That's the common opinion, actually," she said into the glare. "Arthur's an absolute pushover. I used to dress him up in mother's frocks and lipstick. He assures me it's not my doing that he turned out queer."

Morgana had not meant to say anything of the kind. She stopped looking at the sun and sized up Will, wondering if he would mention the story, which was rather personal, to anyone else. "I didn't mean to talk to you like this. Sorry. It's all rather shocking." She gestured with her hand in a way that could have meant anything.

"I know what you mean," he said, though he couldn't possibly. "I'm OK with it all though. Actually I meant to tell you Arthur's a bit of all right, especially compared to that other poofter Merlin was with. You can tell he worships the ground he walks on."

Now she did look at Arthur. He was standing on the bridge with Merlin, having photos done. He'd apparently forgotten how to have his picture taken, despite growing up in the public eye, looking down shyly and sneaking peeks at Merlin when he was supposed to be looking at the camera.

Merlin laughed almost continuously, dusting petals off of Arthur and tugging at his forelock while the photographer snapped madly away. The shots would be perfect, Morgana could tell. If Merlin did not return Arthur's feelings, it could not be seen from any distance.

Morgana removed as much dust from her skirt as she could in front of Will without actually touching her posterior. No point giving him ideas.

"You know I think Hunith's looking for you," she lied. Hunith was down in the pews already, she knew, laying out doilies.

"Oh crap! I guess I'd better be somewhere else right now." 

"Probably." 

She had other places to be as well. Morgana lay her sights on the 7 foot tower that was her husband holding Bea on his shoulders. Time to face the best man.

She was inclined, as she strode not quite to the limits of her hem, to say nothing about what she had seen. And not just because she would not be able to get most of these people to come out for a third wedding if they cancelled this one.

Even if Merlin was actually cheating, or in the worst case scenario was actually scheming to get money from this connection to Arthur, did it matter? Merlin obviously liked Arthur well enough. And Vivienne would probably take it all anyway, before Merlin had a chance. They might never even have to talk about this man Merlin kissed. What could be gained by forcing Arthur to face it now? 

Morgana found herself resenting that it was her decision to make. Again. Just as she had to give her father's behavior a name two years ago, when no one else would say it. Why was she the one who always saw everything? Why couldn't she be like Arthur and blunder along blind without confronting anyone? 

Morgana began a breathing exercise then gave up in irritation when she realized it was the one Merlin had taught her.

It would serve them all right if she turned this to her own advantage. She could. Arthur had dirt on Vivienne and she had dirt on Merlin who in turn had Arthur by the balls.

She could make it very awkward for everyone to keep Vivienne in the front rooms. Her own invitation to return would surely follow. Didn't Uther always put one favorite back on the shelf, when he picked up a new one?

Morgana was still high enough and far enough to see without being seen. There they all were beneath her, her new family: Vivienne, Merlin, Uther and Arthur, three black splodges and one green one. 

Morgana itched to pull that emerald ring off of Vivienne's finger. She thought of the orchard that had been let too much to leaf, so that there were hardly enough apples to press. If she could find a way to take it all without lying to Leon, she would. But she told Leon everything.

Had Uther told Igraine everything?

Morgana paused, thinking of Igraine, trying to imagine her as Uther's wife rather than her mother. There had been a great deal of peace in her mother's dressing room, she remembered. The heavy silk gown, a powder blue that almost but not quite suited Morgana herself, would hiss quietly as her mother eased her on her lap. Together they would pick through the jewelry. Igraine would hold up one glittering piece to her ear and Morgana would nod yes or no. Often her father came to the door and he would watch, waiting for Igraine to tell him to come in. He would place the necklace around her mother's neck that Morgana could not quite manage. Once he had patted her gently on the head before she tiptoed out. Silent, 

Perhaps that was how Uther had perserved his wife's good nature ; he'd, never told her the things he'd done to make her more comfortable. And over time all of the blackness had shifted to his side, while blonde Igraine grew paler and paler and ultimately disappeared altogether.

Morgana knew that if she lost Leon, it would be she who disappeared. It was he who kept her better nature, like a jewel in a box.

Morgana cocked a finger at each of her family in turn below her. Fatheads and snakes alike fell to her ire: bam, bam, bam. Then she blew on her finger and put her opportunity back in her imaginary holster, before running down the hill to husband.

"Morgana! There you are!" Leon, unaware of her thoughts, was not looking heroic at the moment, with his hair crinkling everywhere like hay. "we're having some problems with the family photos"

"I thought we weren't doing that?" Morgana watched as Bea pulled his hair, further disturbing the haystack. 

"Yes well, tell Uther that. He's just ordered the photographer to do parents of the groom with Arthur and Vivienne and she's doing it. Vivienne's supposed to be standing behind Arthur with her hand on his shoulder, would you believe it!." 

Leon's voice rumbled into a rarely heard range of disapproval. Uther was still his boss and he normally excused himself from any public criticism of the man. "It's appalling really how everyone just falls in with him like that." he said between his teeth, "I don't even know why he wants to be in the photos. He didn't even say he'd show up till the last minute!"

"Well this is his big chance to showcase your new mother-in-law, Leon." She pointed to Vivienne. She was peering at the bottom of one green heel, nubby little nose crinkled in disgust.

"I suppose you're right." Leon looked back at Vivienne and shook his head. Morgana was pleased to see from his expression, though it was subtle that he did not admire her, even as an attractive woman. "You would have thought he'd put on the suit then."

The Friday suit and that awful green frock were not going to be in any family photos, not if she could help it.

Morgana waved the photographer over. Kendra was grinning as she jogged up, obvoiusly pleased with herself. Uther strolled behind her as if he'd been her coplanner all along..

"Morgana!" Kendra enthused. "We're getting some fabulous shots! I love the bridge. This is going to be absolutely brilliant!"

"Hmmm. I thought we agreed that this was not a traditional wedding, though?"

Now Uther spoke up. 

"There are a lot of flowers and hats for a non traditional wedding don't you think, Morgana? It's surprising, really how close they've hewn to the regular thing."

Morgana faced Uther and Kendra together as if Uther had never smacked her bottom with his hand.

"I meant in the sense that there's no father and mother of the groom." She allowed herself to hit the fricatives hard on mother and father. "We're just to take pictures of the chosen family. Many gay couples have to redefine their family that way."

Now she did give her father the dirty look of her teen years. 

Kendra clasped her camera to her chest. 

"But Uther said he and Vivienne would be happy to take shots with Hunith and the grooms."

"Is Uther paying for this wedding?"

Kendra bit her lip and was silent. Morgana felt Uther's hand on her arm.

"You know Morgana, I taught you never to ask a question when you don't know the answer yourself."

She had assumed Arthur was paying out of his private account; perhaps not. Uther smiled. 

"Let's ask Arthur what he wants, shall we, my dear?"

She looked over to the group of people being photographed. The happiness that had ignited Kendra a moment ago was gone. Arthur, Merlin and Vivienne stood in row, waiting limply for Uther it seemed. Merlin had his hand on Arthur's shoulder and was whispering in his ear. 

She locked eyes with Arthur, imploring him to remember what they'd talked about; the dissapointment, the anger, the injustice.

Arthur rose as if they'd called his name for the draft.

"Kendra," he said. 

Everyone looked at him, even Vivienne. It was not wasted on Morgana that this deep rich voice was part of his inheritance, his man's inheritence. What a pity he was only going to be shouting at spotty teenagers in gym shorts. 

"There's been a change of plans," Arthur continued. "We would love to have Uther and Vivienne take a picture now with us. It will give us time to dig up Will from wherever he's holed up this time."

Arthur, always the blind enabler, once more chose Uther over her. She did not miss Merlin's nod of approval. Was this his doing? Well the man would want to cater to Uther and Vivienne . After all, they were going to be holding the doors to the bank open while he frittered his time away studying poetry and carrying on affairs at the Pendragons' expense. Typical communist, thinking everyone else owed him a living.

Morgana had to give him credit for bald faced hypocricy. Something about it didn't ring, true though. It wasn't that smart, meeting his lover at his own wedding. Was Merlin that desperate to touch him?. The rumpled man she'd seen was no where near as good looking as her brother. 

Perhaps he needed one to ogle and one to be intellectual and couldn't even wait a day without both. What a tart! She narrowed he eyes at Merlin, giving him the full measure of her feelings. 

"Morgana? Morgs?" Arthur said her name softly, respectfully. "If I were to admit that there might be a tiny shred of truth to the things that you were saying earlier," Arthur held up his thumb and finger to demonstrate how small, "do you think you could let the Vendetta with Vivienne and Uther go, just for today?"

He pointed to where Merlin was sitting on a bench.

"Merlin wants Hunith to enjoy the wedding. He says, and I'm sure he's right, that it doesn't matter what the reasons are. Vivienne's going to be in the family and we may as well get used to it."

He waited. Morgana felt the breeze stir her hair, bringing chatter from various corners of the wedding along with it. Hunith and Will had reappeared she saw. A cellist was tuning. The rows were filling up. She would have to take her own pictures soon. 

She caught Leon's eye, One of them. The other one was obscured by a hank of hair held in Bea's fat fist. She took another deep breath.

This was nothing but a party, really. It had nothing to do with Uther's machinations, or shouldn't; it was Arthur's party, to regret or not regret as it happened, later.

"Certainly, Arthur," she said, "and don't beam at me like that. It's sick making!"

 

* * *

Morgana found herself sitting next to Hunith as the ceremony began. She had most certainly told Merlin's mother to find her seat on Merlin's side of the pews; and oh brilliant. There was Sir Miles in Hunith's place. Morgana had so hoped he would stay in the back where he couldn't say anything.At least he seemed to be asleep. Thank goodness for small miracles. 

"I'm sorry, dear," Hunith rested a cool hand on Morgana's. "I know I've jumped the rails. I just miss my husband at times like this and Will keeps disappearing. I didn't want to be alone."

"Oh, yes, Of course." Morgana said because there was no polite way to say that her son obviously couldn't be left alone for 10 seconds either.

The ceremony began. In the middle of the pond. On the bridge. 

A tall bosomy woman, the mayoress of the village, and clearly from her attitude the eldest of the billy goats gruff, strode up the bridge, trip trap, trip trap. The thing creaked and swayed a bit under her but held. She waited until all the programs and tittering had stopped making noise.

"Hunith Emerson," she boomed leaving over the railing, showing a backside with the broad flat proportions of an archer's target to Arthur and Merlin behind her, " mother to Merlin, please rise and join us."

 

"Morgana and Leon Knight, sister and brother in law to Arthur, please rise and join us."

Morgana cringed as she walked up the aisle, This calling forth of the family was supposed to make more sense than delivering the grooms to the altar. Morgana thought it was awkward.  
She felt like someone at the prayer meeting of a charismatic church. Perhaps she would speak in tongues; it was tempting.

"William Hughes, friend to Merlin, please rise and join us."

The audience, which had enjoyed the suspense of wondering who among them would be called up, was rustling to itself looking for Will. He rose and gave Merlin a little high five as he swaggered up at last. Morgana chose not to slap him. He would only enjoy it.

Soon enough she and Hunith both were standing at either end of the last bridge of the day, Uther and Vivienne were not there, having not intruded this far, at least. It was doubtful if they could have fit anyway. They all crowded together only a few feet from the grooms. Arthur and Merlin were holding gloved hands, all four aloft, and Morgana had the odd feeling that they would soon be ducking under their joined hands like children playing at Oranges and Lemons.

Thankfully they dropped them and the Mayoress said a blessedly few and predictable words about mortal love and its divine antecedents, mostly into Arthur's ear. Arthur was very stoic, of course and only winced once or twice. 

"And now the grooms will exchange a token. The Mayoress, evidently getting into the theatrical spirit of the day, gestured with a hand to Leon, who obligingly fished out Arthur's ring. Then she gestured with the other hand to Will, who smirked.

Morgana's jaw tightened. She didn't fancy that smirk. She hadn't gone over the ring exchange with Arthur. She'd known about Arthur's choice, of course, their grandfather's club ring, and one of the few things he had from Igraine's side. She hadn't spared a thought for what Merlin might have brought. A terrible suspicion formed. There was one piece of jewelry she had seen a lot. But surely even Merlin wouldn't...

Will unbuttoned his morning coat amid a few small whisperings. This noise grew to shocked exclamations and guffaws of laughter as he proceeded to unbutton his shirt as well, rocking his hips back and forth in a little tease.

Then he drew forth from his chest the unbearable ugly, truly enormous gold medallion that Merlin always wore. It was the kind of thing mostly worn by people with gold dipped front teeth. The chain went on and on, glinting obscenely. Will had undone far more unbuttons than were necessary and flashed his hairy chest at the assembly.

Poor Arthur looked a tad grim around the mouth, but Merlin only grinned and looped his arm around his friend's shoulder. Then he turned to Arthur holding his piece of bling aloft.

"Arthur, would you accept this token of my love, of my commitment to honor and cherish you forever."

Unaccountably, Arthur said he would. He bowed his head down and accepted the medallion. 

"Handing out medals! It's like the end of the Wizard of Oz," Morgana muttered. "Do you reckon he's given Arthur courage? He could really have used brains more."

"What?" Leon turned back to hear her, a shit eating grin, unusual for him all over his face. He was happy. Of course he was; he didn't know about the kiss.

She swept her gaze over to Arthur. He looked pleased, holding the medallion up to his eyes as if he were proud of it. Morgana had a sudden image of him wearing some macaroni product necklace with his child's name on it.

Arthur seemed to realize people were waiting for him. He stopped playing with his pimp necklace and turned to his fiancé.

"Merlin, would you accept this token of my love, of my commitment to honor and cherish you forever?" 

Arthur slipped their grandfather's ring of white gold and sapphire over Merlin's finger. He'd had it refitted so that it it slid easily and completely and Morgana saw that he wanted to keep going, to keep sliding into Merlin's space. Only Leon's touch on his arm kept him from swaying towards his new husband.

A clench she had been forcing on her heart, relaxed a little. It was inexplicable, how Merlin could be so lovable and also such a tart, but possibly she didn't have to know now why it was that he had ensnared her brother. What she saw in Arthur now was enough devotion to forgive many sins. 

Morgana reached for Leon's hand. It was over. The worst had occurred and she could look forward to a tidy finish and a tidy profit. She waited for the mayoress to declare Arthur well and truly married this time.

And waited. What was keeping her?.

Then she remembered the vows.

Morgana had not been in favor of the vows. It was unexpected and unfair to ask people to listen to speeches without any alcohol on hand. That's why there were toasts, she'd explained.

Arthur had followed her around, trailing a list of scribbles behind him like a toddler blanket until finally she relented. It was Merlin's idea, he'd said. Something he'd seen at a lot of gay weddings in The States. And besides he really wanted to have a chance to make a sacred commitment and he couldn't have a bishop or even a vicar.

Arthur had sulked about the bishop until she said yes.

Was it too much to hope that they would be brief?

Arthur hemmed and hawed, pulling his scribbles out, which, from the look of them, had grown by several stapled sheets since she'd last checked

Well, perhaps Merlin's would be brief.

As if reading her mind, Merlin caught her eyes and winked. She raised her eyebrows, amused by how mystified he looked. That's right. He had some explaining to do before he could pretend to have eye communication with her. Certainly they couldn't laugh at Arthur together yet.

Her small satisfaction was interrupted by extremely loud, bombastic synthesizer cords coming seemingly from everywhere.

"What is that?"

"I think It's Will," Hunith said,. "He had a little whisper with Merlin earlier I noticed and there was talk of speakers. I didn't want to mention it and spoil the surprise."

Morgana took back all the nice things she had assumed about Merlin's doily making mother as the first strains of Leornard Cohen started up.

"I walked into this empty church. I had no place left to go." The deep voice intoned.  
"Then the sweetest voice I ever heard  
whispered to my soul..

I don't need to be forgiven  
for loving you so much....  
"

Sir Miles was looking about him, alarmed. Perhaps he thought it was some sort of bombardment. Uther came the closest Morgana had seen in a long time to showing his teeth smiling at Vivienne. As for her team, none of them would meet her eye; Morgana suspected they were sniggering.

Since she wasn't talking to Merlin that left only Arthur to end this before it was too late.

"Make him stop" She mouthed,

"I'm sorry" he mouthed back. And just stood there like an ass. Morgana inched gradually up the bridge and reached out a hand and pinched one grey clotheed buttock.

"Ow!" Arthur hissed. He pulled Merlin to him and started whispering. That menace had the nerve to hold up a finger for Arthur to wait. He cupped his other hand around one big ear, smiling around the words and bouncing at the knees as he sang along.

 

I don't need to be forgiven  
For loving you so much.

Arthur threw his hands in the air. Clearly he was the cowardly lion.

It was at this point Merlin realized that he could mime certain lyrics. 

He pointed a finger up 

"All the rocket ships are climbing to the sky, 

Now he opened his palms as if he were reading

holy books are open wide

He tapped his knee and swung it out repeatedly. What did that mean? 

the Doctors working day and night..

Oh yes, doctors, checking for reflexes.

but they'll never ever find  
A cure for love!

Horrified, Morgana caught herself wondering how he was going to act out the word cure. Why was she playing charades along with this idiot? This was going to end now.

As Morgana searched for the source, the music intensified. Angels were declaring it from above, complete with heavenly chorus of ah, ah, ah...

Before the heavenly chorus could climax. Arthur fell to one knee and visibly begged Merlin to make it stop.

It must have been the cue Merlin was waiting for. He mimed cutting his throat at Will, who proved to be behind the azaleas with some equipment that Morgana jolly well hoped he'd paid for himself. 

Silence at last.

All eyes were on Merlin.

"Um sorry... I know you asked me to write vows and well, I did this instead."

Merlin shrugged and looked adorable as the morning coat moved with his shoulders. 

"It's just...Oh get up you silly git," Merlin said,, pulling Arthur up. He put his hands in his pockets and managed to smile up at Arthur even though he was taller. "Um I know you probably didn't expect the music. I just thought Leonard said it better than I could. It's a bad academic trick, I know, getting other people to say your feelings for you."

Now Arthur unfroze.

"Merlin, that was truly awful!" 

Arthur didn't often do mock stern, but Morgana saw it was going to be a habit with him, as he grew to pompous old age.

"But do you love me anyway?" 

Did Merlin sound a little worried? Arthur wasn't really angry. Even Morgana wasn't as angry as she would have been if she could determine exactly which act of Merlin's was the one that was going to run in the papers

"Merlin," Arthur plucked Merlin's hand up for a little squeeze. "there is nothing you could do that would make me not love you."

He picked up his notes and tore them down the middle.

"You know what? That just about sums up all of these."

He dropped the vows in favor of pressing Merlin tight. They were close enough that Merlin could probably feel the residue of sweat from Arthur's press ups in the shed.

The vows floated on the pond, and started to get soggy. Morgana let them. No one was going to look down anytime soon.

Instead, those on Arthur's side of the pews were getting a very good view of Merlin's hands spread wide on Arthur's lower back. No doubt those on Merlin's side could see Arthur's digging a little into Merlin's waist.

The hands put on quite a show. It reminded Morgana of what her best friend had looked like when she pretended to grope herself for the amusement of the third form. Merlin and Arthur were not pretending, kissing for several long minutes while touching everything about each other that could be reached and which did not count, technically as an erogenous zone. As one, Morgana and every one else in the pews were suddenly absolutely certain that they were very good in bed together.

There was something there, at least. Perhaps... Morgana had a sudden insight, perhaps it was sex that had drawn her parents together. 

A lot of flash bulbs went off. Showing an unexpected streak of common sense, the mayoress ignored the grooms and ushered the rest of them quickly off the bridge.

When they got back to their seats, Merlin and Arthur were still absorbed in each other, having started on a second snog.

Hunith coughed and flicked through her program as if she expected to find a new lace pattern hidden in it. When she looked up, though, she was smiling at Morgana. Her eyes were crinkled a the corners and Morgana found herself unable to believe the worst of the woman, even if it was obvious where Merlin got his manipulative charm. 

"What was your mum like, Morgana. If you don't mind my asking?" The woman herself interrupted Morgana's thoughts..

. "Oh," Morgana said, like an idiot., Surprise made her too slow to find an excuse not to answer. "She was..." 

Morgana struggled to find words to pin down what was now mostly only memories of the edge of her senses: perfume in a closet, the sound of a woman's heels in the corridor of the Pendragon office. She remembered Igraine's voice the most clearly in years speaking sharply, "Morgana I don't want to see that again." and wished she'd been gifted with a different recollection.

"Why do you ask?"

Hunith nodded to the stage where Merlin and Arthur were finally done kissing. They were having some trouble exiting however, pulling this way and that as they appeared unable either to agree on a direction or to stop holding hands. 

"I just think that no one could love like that who didn't drink it with their milk."

Perhaps it was true. Perhaps she could remember standing on the stairs, seeing Uther and Igraine kissing like that. 

"I don't know. Someone has to be the first one to start the tradition." Morgana looked at Leon on her other side. He was tearing up and trying to hide it in Bea's hair. 

"I suppose you're right. That way there's hope for our Will."

Morgana, who was fairly sure that Will was hopeless, checked her watch in order not to laugh.

Bollocks. The ceremony was way ahead of schedule. The Merlin and Arthur show had just knocked twenty minutes off of the program without warning. 

"Leon." She tapped his shoulder, "We've got to lead everyone around a bit to give catering time to finish the tables. Can you get the bag piper back?"

"I think he's up the hill having a pint."

Morgana snorted. He was sulking because he hadn't gotten to lead the procession after the first bit. Bag pipers were huge prima donnas

"Fine. We'll just have to take the long way up the esplanade" It had been her original plan, anyway. "Prepare to get muddy."

She picked up Bea, ready to heave herself to her feet, when a cry rang out.

"Well here's something odd. Didn't the bride used to be a blonde?!"  
.  
You had to hand it to Sir Miles; he could still command attention.

"Everyone! She called out, holding Bea's hand, wishing that it were not so grubby, as this walk would undoubtedly make it into the album, if not into the papers.

"Lunch is waiting under the trees. I suspect there will be toasts, and Sir Miles, all of your questions will be answered then."

They laughed for her, and followed.


End file.
